


Aftermath

by DarkxPrince



Series: Amidst the Shadows [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7785697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the dragon attacked Windstad Manor, Charlya takes some time to rest and recover with her wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Charlya sighed as she slipped into the hot water of the bath, resting her head on the edge of the tub. It was one of her better ideas to include the bathtub within the cellar of Windstad Manor. She couldn’t count the times she had been looking forward to a hot bath after weeks of travel, long soak to wash away all of the travel pains. This time though, there were no travel pains to wash away. It was only two weeks after the dragon had attacked Windstad Manor. Two weeks since Charlya had almost lost her family and two weeks since they discovered her vampiric nature. The Dunmer vampire had decided to remain with her family; partly to take care of her adopted daughters and partly to simply remind herself they were all alive and hadn’t left her.

Of course, what went unsaid was that she wanted to remain and protect them. Realistically, Charlya knew that she wouldn’t be able to remain indefinitely to protect her family. Her responsibilities to the various jarls of Skyrim, and guilds, would eventually call her away. It hadn’t been the first time she had thought of giving up the life of an adventurer, retiring as Guild Master, declining jobs from the jarls and living a peaceful life with her family. She had been giving it more and more thought recently and not just because of the dragon attack. Many of the jobs she took from the jarls were petty and trivial and could just as easily be handled by someone else. The jarls thought that just because she was Dovahkiin it was her job to solve every little problem for them. Regardless of the fact that they paid her a sizable amount of gold, it was starting to grate on her nerves. The only jarl she wasn’t irritated with was Elisif the Fair, the jarl of Solitude and High Queen of Skyrim. At least Jarl Elisif didn’t bother Charlya with petty jobs and only called her when all other methods failed.

It wasn’t that she needed to do these jobs for the gold; aside from the jarls she was the wealthiest person in Skyrim. Not only did she own three manors, she also owned five other houses and that was just from the gold she acquired from the jarls. She still had a lot of gold from the guilds she led, all of the jobs she did and cuts she received quickly added up. She certainly had more than enough gold to make sure that her adopted daughters would want for nothing and perhaps even to last her several lifetimes. So if it wasn’t for the gold, then why did she continue to take the jobs from the jarls? What was really stopping her from living a peaceful life with her family? She answered her own question. It was because of her family that she continued to take these jobs, regardless of how much it annoyed her. She kept taking these jobs to help keep the peace throughout the land, which in turn helped keep her family safe.

Though if the recent dragon attack showed her anything, it was that her family was never fully safe. She had known that, of course, when she had brought her family out to live in Windstad Manor. The only truly safe place to live was within one of the many holds of Skyrim, and even then were they really safe? Besides, she had built Windstad Manor – as well as the other manors – as a sort of refuge that she could go to and relax, a place where she could enjoy the solitude and not have to worry about anything. In fact, Lakeview Manor had been built for the sole purpose of being a personal retreat. She’d often go there if she ever just needed time to herself or after a particularly difficult mission. Of course, the fact that it was so far away from people made it easy to hide her vampirism was just a bonus.

As with so many other things, she had been considering moving her family to one of her other houses more and more recently. Yet, they had been living here long enough that Windstad Manor felt like _home_ , the other houses didn’t have the same feel to them. There wasn’t that sense of _belonging_ and _warmth_ and _love_ that Windstad had.

Charlya moaned as a pair of hands started to massage her shoulders. “There was another messenger from Jarl Ravencrone requesting your help.” Jenassa’s voice filled with mirth as she added, “You’d think Alduin returned from the grave with the amount of messengers they send.”

The Dunmer vampire grunted, “Alduin could eat them for all I’d care.” Charlya titled her head back to stare up at her wife, reaching up to cup the other Dunmer’s check, “Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

Jenassa smiled down at her wife, leaning over to briefly kiss the vampire, “I know you would.” The Dunmer stepped back, quickly stripping out of her armor and climbing into the bath. She straddled the Dunmer vampire, gently cupping her face, “But I could never ask that of you. As much as I would love for you to remain here with us, I know that you would become restless.” Jenassa ran a hand through her wife’s hair, “You’d miss the adventure of exploring old ruins and the thrill of fighting bandits and raiders.”

Charlya pulled her wife down for a deep and passionate kiss, shivering slightly as their breasts pressed against each other. One arm encircled the Dunmer’s waist as the other tangled in her hair. Breaking the kiss, Charlya kissed her way down her wife’s neck, sucking slightly on the pulse point. She grazed her fangs along Jenassa’s neck, making sure to keep it light enough so that she didn’t draw blood. As much as she wanted to feed, she had promised herself that she would never feed on her family … no matter what. Over the months that they had been married it had grown easier to control her vampiric urges. It was only times like this that it became difficult to control her urges, yet she always managed.

“What’s it like?” Jenassa asked, breaking Charlya out of her thoughts. The other Dunmer continued to stroke Charlya’s hair, “To drink someone else’s blood?”

The Dunmer vampire pulled back to gaze into her wife’s eyes, thinking for several seconds before answering, “It depends, really. Usually since I’m feeding off bandits and raiders it’s … impersonal.” She leaned forward, lightly kissing Jenassa’s neck. “It can, however, be deeply intimate.”

“Drink from me,” Jenassa whispered.

Charlya froze as her wife’s words registered in her mind. Some small part of her may have always wanted to drink from the other Dunmer, but she had sworn not to. It didn’t matter how hungry she was, it didn’t matter what other circumstances there were, she would never drink her family’s blood … _ever_. That promise had been made long before they were aware of her vampiric nature, yet she still held onto it. True, in the past she needed to hide her vampirism for fear of losing her family, yet there was no need for that now. She knew her family loved her and wouldn’t leave her because of what she was. Was there really a reason to keep that promise now? Jenassa had given her permission, surely she could? There was no harm setting aside her promise and drinking her wife’s blood … was there?

What if she lost control? What if her urges grew too powerful and she harmed her wife? Was she strong enough to not drain her wife dry? Worse, what if she infected her wife with vampirism? All it would take was a small amount of her vampiric blood and the slightest lapse of attention to turn Jenassa. She’d never be able to live with herself if she harmed the one she loved. She couldn’t drink from Jenassa, no matter how much part of her wanted to. She just couldn’t take that risk, Charlya just didn’t trust herself enough. The Dunmer vampire encircled her wife in her arms, pulling her close and burying her face in the Dunmer woman’s neck. Charlya clenched her eyes shut even as her body shook with sobs. “I can’t … I won’t … I …” Charlya stuttered as she sobbed.

Jenassa merely held her wife. “I love you. Allow me to show you how deep that love and trust go. Show me how intimate it can be.”  When the sobbing finally subsided, Jenassa tightened her hold murmuring softly, “Go ahead, I trust you.”

Her wife’s voice echoed around Charlya’s mind, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. The other Dunmer may not have known exactly just how much that meant to her. Yet even so, Charlya was still hesitant to drink from her wife. Throughout her long life she had done many dishonorable things … being a career thief and master of the Thieves Guild chief among them. Still, when she could she liked to do the honorable thing and the honorable thing was to hold to her vow and not drink from her wife. _“_ _I trust you._ _”_ It repeated over and over and over again until she could hear nothing else. That one simple statement drove all her fears, all her worries away and filled her with love. Before she could convince herself otherwise, Charlya took one deep breath … and gently sank her fangs into her wife’s neck.

Charlya moaned in bliss as her wife’s blood flooded her mouth, the other Dunmer woman moaning in her own pleasure. Each race’s blood had a different taste to it: a Nord’s often tasted like the mead they drank; an Altmer’s was like spiced wine, likely due to their potent magicka; and a Bosmer’s had a distinct earthy tang. A Dunmer’s blood, though, was perhaps the best blood to drink and an interesting mix of flavors. There was a slight burn to it, largely due to the Red Mountain’s eruption and the natural resistance to fire it grants. More than that, there was the spice of magicka, due to the Dunmer’s innate magical talent, and there was also a slight earthy tang to it, perhaps due to the ash that covered Morrowind. Charlya may have been just slightly biased, but Dunmer blood had always been her favorite to drink and her wife’s blood didn’t disappoint.

Charlya moaned into her wife’s neck as their bodies ground together, her hands drifted down to grip the other Dunmer’s hips. She pulled Jenassa close, trying to press their bodies as close as she could. Her nails raked down Jenassa’s thighs even as they continued to grind against each other. Extracting her fangs, the vampire ran her tongue over the bite marks; Jenassa’s own nails clawing at her back. Sucking on her wife’s neck, Charlya pushed her back against the tub. Hovering over the other Dunmer, Charlya leaned down, kissing Jenassa with almost bruising force. Jenassa moaned into the kiss as the vampire pressed a thigh between her legs.  Hands wandered over gray skin, trying to touch every inch of naked flesh that they could. Charlya cupped her wife’s breasts, thumbs brushing over Jenassa’s nipples, sending a shiver through the Dunmer.

Unable to contain the roaring passion burning within her, Charlya reached down between their bodies, her hand replacing her thigh rubbing Jenassa. The Dunmer vampire sucked on her wife’s neck, her fingers delving into the other woman. Jenassa’s back arched, moaning and gripping the edge of the tub. Her breath quickened, grinding herself on the vampire’s fingers yet Charlya never increased her pace. Surrendering to instinct, Charlya sank her fangs into her wife’s neck again, Jenassa throwing her head back as she moaned. Charlya shifted slightly, straddling one of her wife’s thighs and rubbing herself against it. Even as she did this, she used her own thigh to drive her fingers harder and faster into Jenassa. The moan reverberated through Jenassa’s chest as the Dunmer woman hit her peak, clutching her wife tightly. Charlya’s back arced as she hit her own peak moments later, hissing as the pleasure flooded through her.

Charlya collapsed on top of her wife, trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure. The Dunmer women held each other, simply enjoying the other’s presence in the afterglow.

“By Azura,” Jenassa mumbled, chest heaving in ragged breaths, “If … if I had known it was going to be so intense, I would have asked you sooner.”

Charlya lightly kissed her wife’s neck, her own breathing finally evening out, “Thank you.”

Jenassa smiled lazily, tightening her hold around the vampire’s waist, “Never doubt how much I love and trust you.”

Charlya shifted to the side, leaning back against the tub while Jenassa cuddled against her side. The Dunmer vampire closed her eyes, running a hand through Jenassa’s hair, frowning when she finally noticed that the water was no longer hot. Summoning her magic, she levitated several logs under the tub, setting them aflame with a simple thought. As the water reheated, the two Dunmer women merely held each other, taking comfort in each other’s presence. Even as she relaxed, doubts and worries continued to plague Charlya’s mind. Jenassa was right, she would always crave adventure. When she took jobs from the jarls, it was never about the gold … well, not anymore, anyway. Perhaps when she had first started, first discovered her destiny and was trying to survive, it had been about the gold. But then she changed, she fell in love and started a family and suddenly it was all about them. The jobs and gold had all been for them, and it would always be so.

Which left the question of what should she do? Charlya knew that her wife was an outstanding fighter; months of adventuring together had shown her that. So she had never given it a second thought when she left Jenassa alone at Windstad Manor to look over Runa and Sofie. She knew her wife was strong enough to handle any bandits or wildlife stupid enough to wander too close to the manor. Yet that dragon had nearly killed the Dunmer woman and if Charlya wasn’t a powerful vampire it certainly would have. But didn’t that dragon attack because Charlya was Dovahkiin? Because it wanted to test its strength against her own? Had she endangered her family however inadvertently? Was she putting her family in danger by staying with them? Would other dragons eventually find their way to Windstad Manor looking to fight her? Worse, would a dragon attack while she was away? Or would bandits overwhelm her wife? Would she come home from an adventure and find her house destroyed and family killed?

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. It was a possibility … it was always a possibility. She had made plenty of enemies throughout the months she had been adventuring and trying to save the world from Alduin. She was sure that there were plenty of people who either wanted her dead or those close to her dead. So while it would always be a concern, there was no sense in truly worrying about it. Besides, other than the jarls very few people knew about her mansions so it was doubtful anyone would find them. Would that stop her from worrying about the safety of her family? Of course not, she would always worry. And that fear would just quietly sit at the back of her head, plaguing her throughout her adventures. There might, however, be something that she could do to help ease her mind. As Thane of all the Holds of Skyrim, not only did she own a house within each of the Holds, she was also assigned a Housecarl for it. Normally she just left her Housecarls to look after the houses and didn’t bother to bring them along on her adventures. In fact, the only Housecarl she had ever brought along was Lydia, and that was only because she hadn’t been able to buy Breezehome yet and she was just starting out on her adventures.

Truthfully, Lydia was the only one that she trusted enough to even consider bringing to Windstad Manor. That trust had not only been built on the months that they had traveled together, but also on a gamble that Charlya took. Early on, when Charlya had first been traveling to High Hrothgar, bandits had attacked them. The bandits had been easily defeated, Lydia proving how great a fighter she really was, when Charlya’s _hunger_ had set in. She had been tempted to wait until they made camp, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run the risk of not finding anyone to feed upon. She was also unsure how long she and Lydia would be traveling together and Charlya figured the Housecarl would eventually learn about it. So she took one of the injured bandits and drove her fangs into the person’s neck, keeping her eyes on Lydia. To her surprise Lydia didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t draw her sword or do anything … just silently watched her drink the bandit’s blood.

At first Charlya just thought that Lydia took her duties as Housecarl seriously, so she had ignored it. It continued to bother her though, so the next day she asked the Nord woman why she had reacted the way she did. Lydia said that, while she did take her duties as Housecarl seriously and would keep all of Charlya’s secrets, she didn’t judge people on what they were. If Lydia was going to judge anybody, it would be based upon their actions and not on some preconception. After that, Lydia had become a fast friend and one of the few people she could trust. Having her here, protecting Windstad Manor, would certainly put her mind at ease while she traveled.

“I’m thinking of bringing one of my Housecarls here,” Charlya murmured, gently running her fingers through her wife’s hair.

“Do you no longer trust me enough to keep our daughters safe?” Jenassa asked.

The sadness within her wife’s voice was like a spike to the heart, sending a shiver throughout her body. “You know that’s not it,” Charlya replied, tightening her hold around her wife. “That dragon had nearly killed you,” The Dunmer vampire sobbed, “I can’t bear the thought of something happening while I’m away.”

“Then turn me.” Jenassa’s voice was barely a whisper but it sounded like she had shouted.

“No.” She muttered. “No. No. No. No.” She repeated, backing away until her back hit the other side of the tub. Eyes clenched shut and head shaking, she mumbled it over and over again trying to drive the thought out of her mind. “I refuse to condemn you to this life.”

In some deep and dark part of her mind, Charlya knew that something, eventually, would separate them. Being a vampire Charlya was immortal; she couldn’t die of old age or illness. However, Dunmer lived naturally long lives, she still had many years – decades, really – to live with Jenassa. As it was, both she and Jenassa would outlive Sofie and Runa … perhaps even seeing grandchildren and great-grandchildren live and die. She had come to terms with that, she had accepted the fact that she would outlive all of her loved ones. On some level she even thought she deserved it; some form of repentance for the years of her selfish and cruel actions. She wouldn’t be totally alone, though; there were other vampires she would go live with, perhaps after years of solitude. Yet it wouldn’t be the same, nothing could ever replace her family.

While the thought of spending eternity with her wife was appealing, (who wouldn’t find that appealing?) it had its drawbacks. There was always the possibility that one of them could be killed. Even as powerful as Charlya was, it was always a possibility that she could die on one of her adventures. A dragon had nearly killed Charlya and there were plenty of other dragons out there flying over Skyrim. And on the off chance that Charlya was killed, where would that leave Jenassa? Her wife would be left alone for all eternity, and Charlya couldn’t let that happen. It had taken years for Charlya to accept that she would outlive any one she might fall in love with. There was also the matter of her vampiric blood, which was unlike any other. Her vampirism was from the oldest and most powerful of vampire lines - pureblooded, created by the Daedric Prince Molag Bal himself. Not everyone could survive being turned by a pureblooded vampire; one of the only reasons Charlya had survived was because of her dragon soul. There was an extremely small chance that Jenassa would survive, and if her wife died Charlya didn’t know what she would do with herself.

“I understand that there are risks for what I’m asking,” Jenassa’s voice cut through the storm that was her thoughts. “That dragon almost killed me, and I wasn’t able to protect our daughters or you.” Charlya felt her wife’s arms encircle her, tears falling from the other Dunmer’s eyes, “I have no intention of feeling so helpless again.” Jenassa inhaled deeply before continuing, “If becoming a vampire means I can protect you all, then that is something I’m willing to do.”

Charlya nearly smiled, that had been the same reason she had accepted Harkon’s reward when she had rescued Serana. “You still might not survive the process.”

“Of course I’ll survive,” Jenassa whispered, “I have something to live for.”

Charlya lightly kissed the other Dunmer’s neck, “I’m not willing to take that chance.” The vampire pulled back, gazing into her wife’s face, “I’m sorry.” Charlya leaned forward, pressing a long passionate kiss against her wife’s lips. Charlya poured all of her love, all of her worry, all of her concern, all of her _everything_ into the kiss. She hoped … prayed … that her wife would understand and not bring it up again. Even though the vampire felt her wife’s nod, Charlya had the distinct feeling it wasn’t over.

Charlya untangled herself from Jenassa, climbing out of the hot tub and drying off. The vampire changed into a simple nightgown, helping Jenassa into her own nightgown once the Dunmer woman was dry. Together they left the cellar, heading up to their bedchamber and getting into bed. Charlya gazed up at the ceiling, her wife snuggling up to her side, combing a hand through Jenassa’s hair and trying to fall asleep. Perhaps she would stay here longer than she had first thought, if for no other reason than to make sure that her wife didn’t go off and try to find a vampire to turn her. The rational part of her knew that Jenassa would never do that. Surely Jenassa knew that most vampires would just drain her dry rather than turn her. Charlya would have to keep an eye on her wife for a while, just to make sure the other Dunmer woman didn’t do anything foolish.

She also made a mental note to send a letter to Lydia in the morning. Having the Housecarl here would make things easier, and she wouldn’t have to watch Jenassa all day. Charlya closed her eyes, took a deep breath and relaxed, she’d worry about all of that later. Pulling her wife closer to her, Charlya finally drifted off into a fitful slumber.


End file.
